Death of Shadows, Brightness of Light
by Celebwen Telcontar
Summary: A Technomage comes back to Earth after she is poisoned and taken back to the past. Crossover with BtvS.
1. Chapter 1

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Alright, this fic has several major spoilers up until the end of Season 4, maybe some of Season 5, and has major spoilers for the Techno-mage novels, the Psi Corps novels, and perhaps a bit from the Centauri Prime novels. Please do not read this fic if those spoilers will get to you. If these offend you, please leave now and look at some other fic. Thank you for your patience and cooperation.**_

* * *

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This is a Babylon 5-Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover. The inspiration for this project was that Willow is a Wicca, and that both the Geek Trio (Warren, Andrew and JonathanBtVS) and Xander Harris BtVS again watch Babylon 5, read the novels, in at least Xander's case collect plates, and the four of them also are pretty regular Sci-fi fanatics; i.e. Xander knows the written/spoken form of Klingon, which, while being Star Trek and not Babylon 5, is still pretty hard-core sci-fi. **_

_**Balrog: Speak English, please. Or at least some language we all speak. Like the Black Speech. I know that.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I know that you know the Black Speech, but I don't. It hurts my ears as much as the Elven tongues hurt yours. Now anything else?**_

_**Balrog: Why make Willow a Techno-mage?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: She's already a Wicca, why not make her something a bit more powerful? Now on with the story!**_

_**Balrog: Wait, wait, wait! Do you own anything Buffy? Or anything Babylon 5?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: No, I don't. Buffy the Vampire Slayer belongs to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy Productions. Babylon 5, sadly, belongs to J. Michael Straczynski and Babylon Productions. Now, on with the story! And please leave a juicy review!**_

_**Balrog: Alright, people. This is the key to understanding the fic. **_English, _Lenn'ah (Warrior caste Minbari), __Adaronto (Religious caste Minbari), _**Italian, ****Standard**

* * *

The young-looking woman sat in the wheelchair, allowing her elderly companion to push her along the sidewalks of the very congested city of Rome. Another person was trudging behind, a young man carrying a backpack and grumbling in a different language. His fur coat and shaggy brown hair made him stand out, and he sent death glares at anyone attempting to examine him more closely.

"_Umbra-letum, when is the house you spoke of to come close?"_the old man asked in the tongue they all knew, but the populace did not.

"_It should… be a large… house, with… large and extensive… yards. Women will be… sparring in the… yard and… possibly under the… guidance… of a woman… with brown hair… or one… with blonde hair."_

"_Do not speak so much, Umbra-letum. You are wasting your energy. You should have just said "soon" rather than making that huge sentence."_

"_Beryl, you… are not my… father, nor… my keeper."_

"_I am glad that I am not your Keeper, Umbra-letum. To think of that nastiness…"_

"_Beryl, you … are insufferable."_

"_As are you, Umbra-letum. Now quiet, I see the house."_

Beryl pushed the wheelchair a bit farther to the place where he saw a massive mansion, probably once the mansion of a Roman senator or an auspicious General. A group of women were training, Slayers, Beryl knew they were called.

"**Zathras wants to know when Zathras reaches destination,"** the baggage-boy grumbled to Beryl.

"**Soon, Zathras. Now remember, you are Zachary, I am Beryl, and Umbra-letum is Willow."**

"**Zath—Zachary knows. Zachary does not understand, but Zachary will do."**

"**Good, Zachary."**

"**Hello? How may we help you**?" a woman asked in Italian.

"Erm… **We do not speak Italian well**. We speak English."

"Ah! Good, we speak English as well. I'm Sonja. Come on in, and we'll see if we can help you."

"Sonja," a woman called as soon as Sonja had led the threesome into the house.

"Buffy, there's a group of three people here who look as if they need help."

"Alright, Sonja. Let me see… Willow!" Buffy rushed forward.

"Buffy… I cannot… I am not… I am not well, Buffy."

"What? What happened, Willow?"

"I… was poisoned."

"By who? Listen, you, if either of you poisoned my friend, you are going to be in _big_ trouble. Understand?"

"Perfectly," Beryl said in English, looking directly into Buffy's eyes.

"Uh… are you Human? You have red eyes," Buffy said.

"Er… Family trait," Beryl improvised.

"Hmmm. I want to see you in my office as soon as Willow is comfortable."

"_Don't worry… Beryl. She's… nice… to non-demons… and you… are not a … demon, just… a Narn."_

"_A very old Narn at that, Umbra-letum,"_Beryl chuckled. "Alright, I'll agree to this."

"You also have to bring your friend with you."

"My… Zachary. Of course."

"Is he a bellboy?" Buffy asked. "He's carrying around your stuff."

"He's not a bellboy, to be exact, he's someone that… Willow and my mutual acquaintance trusts to be taken with us, while Willow recovers."

"Why did you wait before saying "Willow"?"

"Because Willow is no longer her name any more. It is Umbra-letum."

"I see. Shadow-death. How appropriate."

"_You have no idea,"_ Beryl grumbled. Umbra-letum smiled fleetingly before a rather disturbed expression came onto her face. _"Umbra-letum, she'll be safe, let's hope."_

"_I know… Beryl. It's just… he's so… he's so angry right now… I can't break… through his shields…and Delenn's life… is on the line."_

"_She'll be alright, Umbra-letum. Marcus is a good man, and he's powerful. Do you expect anyone who is trained by Durhann to just step aside and let him take over the Anla-shoc?"_

"_Will Marcus survive?"_

"_I doubt it, but he's good."_

"_Good… does not mean… that he… can survive… against something… far more powerful… than he could… ever be."_

"_It's too bad, I was fond of him." _

"_So was I… Beryl, so was…I. Rarely… do you find… such a… mind…, so old… yet so young… so like the Ancients… so like the… myths… and legends… we were… raised on. I almost… expected… him to yank… a handy… sword from… a nearby stone."_

"_Indeed. You have told me of your King Arthur, yet I do not entirely understand it. You can tell me the nuances later."_

"_I'm sure… that Giles… could tell you… better than… I could."_

"_And where is this 'Giles' friend of yours?"_

"_He should… be here… he's Buffy's watcher… after all."_

"_Rest, Umbra-letum."_ Beryl took her into the room that Buffy had signaled out could be used for Umbra-letum.

"Willow," an old man said, coming into the room. "It's great to see you back here!"

"Giles… it's good… to be… back."

"What kind of poison was it? We may have the antidote here."

"No… the closest… place… to find… the people… who poisoned… me is… on Mars."

"Mars?! You were poisoned by aliens?" Giles cried.

"Yes. Giles… meet my friend… and mentor…, Beryl."

"So you are Giles. Umbra-letum has not stopped talking about you. I was told that you are a good source on myths and legends?"

"Yes, I am, Mr. Beryl."

"Just Beryl, please, I forfeited my surname with my first name when I became Beryl."

"What sort of person are you?"

"A sorcerer, you could say." Zathras entered the room, carrying their baggage, and placed it near the dresser. The alien looked up and gave Beryl a small grin, and went out, possibly to find something to eat. Beryl let a small bubble form, and filled it with glowing flame. Giles' eyebrows went up. _"Umbra-letum, do you need anything?" _Beryl asked in Lenn'ah.

"_No. Just… some rest. Thank you… for coming with… me, Beryl."_

"_You are welcome, daughter-of-my-heart." _Beryl bowed slightly, his hands clasped on his chest. Umbra-letum smiled gently, and watched as Beryl placed her opaque blue crystal staff on the side of the wall, resting against her headboard. She closed her eyes and fell into a deep, healing sleep. She was conscious of Beryl pulling the covers up to tuck around her and then leaving, closing the door behind him.

* * *

"So, what happened to Willow, and who are you?" Buffy asked Beryl, over a plate of spaghetti and Swedish meatballs. Beryl took a bite of a meatball, and his eyes popped open. He stared at the plate, rolling the food around with his fork, then began eating with far more gusto, and closing his eyes in bliss after every bite.

"_Breen! Where in the Universe did the Humans find Breen at this time period?!"_ Beryl cried in joy and bafflement.

"What was that? Apparently, you like the Swedish meatballs. We'll buy some more for you later, if you stay. Alright, who are you and what do you have to do with Willow?" Buffy asked.

"I am Beryl, her mentor. She's in a new form of magic now, not her Wicca Magyk that she uses from time to time, that is what is keeping her alive."

"What do you mean, Beryl?"

"She was poisoned by a man who works for an ancient evil, and the poison was made to completely shut down the technology that we Techno-mages have in our bodies to make the magic that we do. The Wicca Magyk that Umbra-letum uses has blocked the poison, but it does not completely stop it. So she has lost her ability to use Technomancy, but her Wicca Magyk is full power."

"Good. How much of a chance of survival does she have?"

"Very good, since she is still lucid. Hopefully she will not have a relapse. That is why we came here. If the Shadows ever found out that Umbra-letum is not at full power, they would take all their power and destroy her, and whatever planet she was on."

"Wait, wait! Isn't Earth in danger now?!"

"No, because we went back in time to do this. The Shadow's worst enemy is gone from that timeline now, and so she will recover, then return to our timeline and destroy the Shadows as best as we can."

"Alright… so you have gone through time, you're not a traditional witch or warlock, but use technology to make magic seem real, and Willow is a hunted woman."

"In a nutshell," Beryl said.

"I can tell that you've been staying for a long time with Willow. Alright, let's go. I'll get you a room. Now, I don't fully trust you yet, but I trust that you wouldn't hurt Willow."

"Of course I won't. Now, how about some more of that lovely dish?"

"What, the Swedish meatballs? Go ahead, no one else likes them!"

* * *

Xander stepped into the mansion, dragging the huge bag of food with him.

"We really need a bellboy," Andrew muttered, bringing in a large cart full of different supplies behind him.

"Yah. No kidding, 'Drew."

"It's _An_drew, _Alex_," Andrew said in reply. "Hey, whose wheelchair is that?" Buffy rounded the corner.

"Hey, boys. That would be Willow's chair. Here, Xand. Hand me that." Buffy took it in a swift swing, and carried it effortlessly into the kitchen. Andrew and Xander entered, to find a white-haired man, mostly bald, and aged and in odd clothing, gobbling up the Swedish meatballs as if they were the best food on Earth.

"Is he actually _eating_ the Swedish meatballs?" Xander asked in wonder.

"Yes. I interrogated Beryl about an hour ago, and he devoured the plate of meatballs."

"Huh. Interesting, no one else likes them. At least we've found a use for them."

"If he stays long, we may need to buy more of them," Buffy put in.

"Ah, you must be Alexander Harris. Umbra-letum… er… Willow has told me a great deal about you."

"So you're Beryl. Who are you to Willow?"

"Her mentor. If I had not taken the post, someone else would have."

"Huh? I'm not going to electrocute you."

"Good."

"Xander, be careful, he's a sorcerer. Better than I am," Giles said, entering the room and looking through the refrigerator.

"Ah. Oh, Andrew, speaking of magic, did you finish those novels I loaned you?"

"Yes, I'll get them to you tonight. They're good," Andrew said.

"Good. I'm glad you liked them. Now for our friend, Beryl." _:Giles, are you sure that he's Human? He has red eyes,: _Xander commented telepathically.

_:He says that they are a family trait. I'm not so sure, though,:_ Buffy replied.

_:Red eyes could be a portent to demonism, Xander. However, though this _is_ relatively unlikely, Narns also have red eyes, and they love Breen, which is a food that tastes remarkably like Swedish meatballs, so I've been told. Ko'dan, when he was speaking to G'kar in… I think it was Season 2, maybe 3, ate some Swedish meatballs and wondered how G'kar was able to import Breen so far from the Narn homeworld.:_

_:He's a demon if he's not Human, Andrew. Babylon 5 is a TV show,: _Xander replied to Andrew's comment._ :Besides, not everyone has to hate Swedish meatballs. Also, I've seen a few people with purple eyes, why not red?:_

_:And have red eyes and a taste for Swedish meatballs in the same person? I wouldn't be surprised if he has red skin.:_

_:Please speak of things we _all_ know, boys. I don't know what this Narn thing is, but he's a very powerful magician.:_

_:What sort of spells does he use?: _Andrew asked Giles.

_:He made a ball of fire, without any outside support or seemingly using any exertion to create it, even speech.:_

_:Definitely like a Techno-mage.:_

_:Andrew, not everything has a link into Sci-fi!:_

_:If it helps,: _Giles put in sheepishly, _:Willow, or as Beryl and their bellboy call her Umbra-letum, was poisoned by an alien. She said that the closest of the life forms that poisoned her is on Mars.:_

_:Most likely buried! She was poisoned by the Shadows!:_ Andrew mentally yelped. Xander glared at him.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

Umbra-letum stood slowly from her seated position, swinging her legs off of the bed and stepping carefully onto the floor. She reached for her crystal staff, using its support to pull herself up to stand. She groaned with the effort, and placed a hand on her temple. Her tech was throbbing and burning, and she closed her eyes against all sorts of imagery as it flung her mind hither and yon. She reached for her tech to soothe it, and wound up technocasting nothing.

Suddenly, her tech burned wildly. She yelled as her heart throbbed and stumbled, and she felt a gentle warming sensation seeping into her body from her tech. It soothed her gently, and then she felt a rabid curiosity. The tech wanted to know everything, and it sent her life to her with no particular order, showing that it knew what was happening and that it knew her and wanted to be with her. Golden light coalesced about her, and she gasped at the beauty that it showed.

"_I guess that even though the Shadows gave the tech to techno-mages that the tech is not evil. It's just curious. Maybe Lorien is right, the Shadows have simply forgotten to ask, and are answering their former questions with answers of their own making. The Vorlons are doing the same thing, I suppose," _she whispered to herself. The warmth and glory went away to be replaced by a kind and supportive feeling, constantly there. She thought about moving, and before she could cast the spell of movement, she rose in the air and moved to the bathroom, obviously propelled by the tech. The door opened, and Beryl stepped in.

"_Hello, Umbra-letum. How are you?"_

"_Better than I have been. I managed to merge with the tech."_

"_You what? Merged with the tech? How? Was your policy, much like Blaylock's, getting to you? Did you use control to—"_

"_Beryl! Calm down! I simply cast nothing, and it merged with me. I am the tech. It is me. It is all I ever hoped for, and all that I ever wanted. Blaylock would love this."_

"_I'm sure he would,"_Beryl replied, looking enviously at Umbra-letum. She smiled warmly, then her smile fell as she decided to check her probes.

* * *

probe

* * *

The man slept peacefully in the Medlab bed. His black hair and beard was stark against the brightly starched and bleached linens, and his injuries were not obvious. How he had survived Denn'sha with Neroon was anybody's guess. He shifted lightly, as if he was trying to get more comfortable, but he did not let a sound escape his bearded lips.

"_Marcus, you fool,"_Umbra letum whispered as she saw him lying on the bed. _"Hopefully you did not kill Neroon. You're too damned noble to pull a stunt like cheating, but still if Neroon's dead, I will not be happy."_She checked another probe, this one in the _Ingata_, Neroon's ship, and saw Neroon standing on the bridge, a contemplative expression in his fathomless eyes. Umbra-letum smiled slightly, letting a tear find its way down her cheek.

* * *

end probe

* * *

"_Umbra-letum, are you alright?" _

"_I'll be fine. There's nothing wrong with me. You'll be glad to know that both Neroon and Marcus survived Denn'sha."_

"_How?! That makes no sense! Denn'sha is a fight to the death, not to when one or the other passes out!"_ Beryl cried. He was pacing the room, his Human guise having fallen and he was now as he had always been in Umbra-letum's eyes: an elderly Narn. The edges of his spots were graying, and his red eyes were beginning to be covered by a very thin film, obscuring his sight. Wrinkles covered his face, as if he had become too small for his skin. The sight made Umbra-letum recall when she had first seen the aged Narn, soon after she had met her younger brother.

* * *

flashback

* * *

Willow stood on the bridge of the ship, her eyes glaring at the brown-haired man.

"How can you be so cold?!" Willow demanded. Bester simply smirked at her. "Why do you need to have Lieutenant-Commander Ivanova with you? Commander Sinclair won't go for the Telepath excuse. She may be a telepath, but she isn't strong enough to make any fuss over. For Gaea's sake, she's not even a P1!"

"But she's a telepath," Bester replied.

"Al, please, for me? Don't let your greed for more telepaths in Psi Corps overcome your love of life, your love for Kathryn, or your love for me. I still love you, big brother, but you don't seem to see that. If you can't control your greed, then I'm going back to Earth, in the 21st century."

"Alright, Rhiannon. I won't go after her. Happy?"

"Yes. Well, more than I was." Willow smiled slightly, and hugged her brother. Being a Psi Cop herself, she knew that Susan wasn't supposed to be there, but she was having her own misgivings about the Psi Corps. They seemed very controlling, and not very helpful for telepaths outside of the Corps. After the Ironhart fiasco, she had begun to realize that they would do anything to increase the power of their telepaths and stabilize the mentality of their telekinetics. With her Wicca abilities, Willow would be all but forced to be raped by who-knows how many P12's, P11's, or even as low as P10's. it was sickening how corrupt the Corps was. As they said, the "Corps is mother, the Corps is father", but this was going too far. She was going to get out of the Corps, whether her brother liked it or not.

The Omega-class ship turned as Al headed back to Earth and the Corps. For her, he had abandoned the chase, but for how long?

Another ship approached, a relatively small triangular vessel that seemed to leak darkness into the air.

"Great, techno-mages," Al grumbled. He obviously wasn't too happy with the situation. The ship was floating dead in space, and Willow let a tendril of thought touch whatever was inside of it.

_:Are you in need of help?:_ Willow asked.

_:Who are you?:_ the mind thought back, not necessarily telepathically, but just a thought.

_:Willow Rosenberg—er—Bester—er—Rhiannon Dexter, I suppose I could say.:_

_:The child of Fiona and Matthew Dexter? I thought that only Alfred Bester was the Dexter's child.:_

_:Al is my brother. As for you, are you a techno-mage?:_

_:I am, and I need help, desperately. Even from an Omega-class ship from the Psi Corps.:_ Willow demanded that Al turn the ship around and help the stranded techno-mage, and soon she had the aging Narn in some quarters while she used her Wicca to work on the ship. "I'm Beryl," the Narn said. "Once Ki'don, now a techno-mage."

"I'm Rhiannon, formerly named Willow. I'm a Wicca, which means I'm a witch."

"A witch, hmm? You could make a very good techno-mage, I'm sure."

"I'm sure I couldn't. I know that it is very strange work, and…"

"Rhiannon, I know that I desperately need an apprentice. My daughter, Na'leer, died two cycles ago, and you fit her spot perfectly. You need someplace else, I can tell, and I need an apprentice. Please, Rhiannon?"

"A-alright. I'll go, and if I decide to back out later, you won't come after me with a hatchet?"

"Of course I won't," Beryl chuckled. Willow smiled, and knew she was not going to regret her choice. This was a new life for her, away from the Corps, away from the crazy Vice-President of Earth, and everything else. She could be herself again, only Willow, and not Willow: P12 telepath, not Willow: the Wicca attached to the Scoobies of Sunnydale, California, not Willow: the grief-crazed Wicca intent on destroying the world. Just Willow, just herself. No one else. The thought was intoxicating.

* * *

end flashback

* * *

Umbra-letum stopped daydreaming, and placed a hand on the conjured chair that held her. The ancient leather supported her and she softly stroked the velvet-covered arms. It was sheer extravagance, but it was a luxury she would have until she died. Having conjured the chair out of her Wicca magic and using a flying platform beneath it to make it float, she could make herself look rather imposing, especially if she decided to make her hair glow a sheer white, her eyes a magnificent ebony, and her skin a brilliant gold.

"_You will have to tell them sooner or later, Umbra-letum,"_Beryl said softly.

"_I know. It's not easy to say that I've been in the future and not simply missing. It's also not that easy to say that I've been on other planets, and that I'm in love with a Minbari warrior who is to marry a woman who is not exactly kind or generous."_

"_Dharrema is going to be mated to Neroon, and that's that. You can't go and mate a Warrior who is already betrothed."_

"_I know. It's hard though."_

"_It always is. Do you think that I wasn't hurt when Na'leer was killed by the Centauri after deciding to put herself up to be killed by them?"_

"_No. I don't. That was hard on you, I'm sure."_

"_And then you came and became my new daughter. You will live, I know that."_

"_Yes. Everything will be alright."_

"_Besides, he hates Humans."_

"_And I'm not Human, well, not technically. He knows me as a friend."_

"_Of course he does. And he's right to do so. Look, Umbra-letum, I know how much you love him, but he's a Minbari, and you're Human. There couldn't be anything there."_

"_Valen was human, in fact he was Commander Sinclair."_

"_That's reincarnation, not marriage!" _Beryl snapped. _"Besides, how would you two mate? Minbari females menstruate much differently than Humans do, besides, he's not your species."_

"_True enough,"_Umbra-letum sighed. She let her chair fall slowly to the ground and let her feelings of hopelessness out, weeping on her mentor's shoulder.

* * *

Days became weeks, weeks became months, and finally the months became a year. Umbra-letum became a Wicca, still using her tech when she needed to. Zathras became the mansion's bellboy, often doing menial repairs and shopping. The Slayers, Xander, Andrew, and Giles tried to help, but they couldn't. Beryl became older and older, his illusion making his hair fall out slowly, until he had a very thin horseshoe of translucent hair about his head. He did not often join in with everyone else, and became less than he was. One evening, Buffy, the Slayer who was working the North end of Rome, found a chipped and still very insane Drusilla, whom she promptly brought back. Again, the group had a chipped vampire living in their bathtub.

"Hey, Umbra-letum," Xander called. A ringing cry alerted Umbra-letum that Drusilla wanted some more blood.

"Yes, Xander?" Umbra-letum asked.

"Where were you when you were gone? And Zachary and Beryl, where did they come from? You guys keep avoiding our questions, so we can't know where you came from."

"Look, Xander, there's something I've got to tell you. There's a whole bunch of worlds outside of our own. Not dimensions, necessarily, but entire planets, whole civilizations."

"So we're not alone in the universe?"

"Absolutely not. One of my friends just so happens to be a Human who had been an alien before he was reincarnated."

"Oh, sort of like Valen/Sinclair."

"WHAT?!? How do you know of Valen?! And of Jeff?! I thought that very few people knew that Valen had been reincarnated as Jeffery Sinclair, and now you're saying you knew it all along?! Do you know where G'Quon is now? What about the first Centauri emperor?!" Umbra-letum yelped.

"Oh my good macaroni and cheese! Babylon 5 is real?! It's really real?!"

"The space station? Of course it's real. It went operational about 5 years ago."

"Five years after the station became operational… so you must know of Marcus, and Talia was removed, and Lyta is in her place. Sheridan is Captain, and Susan is now the Commander instead of the Lieutenant-Commander."

"_In Valen's Name…_How did you learn of the station?"

"Did you just say 'In Valen's Name' in a Minbari language?"

"Lenn'ah. But that's not the point—"

"You know the language of the Minbari warrior caste?!"

"Of course I do! And the religious and worker castes! Minbar is my place of power!"

"Oh good grilled cheese… you're a techno-mage!"

* * *

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This is the end of the first chapter of the BtVS/B5 crossover.**_

_**Balrog: And what will Willow/Umbra-letum say when she hears that Xander knows what a techno-mage is?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: She will react the way she will react. Wait for the next installment before clamoring about cliffhangers! And please review!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This is the new chapter in my BtVS/B5 crossover. Please review!**_

_**Balrog: So... what is going on with Zathras?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: You'll see.**_

_**Balrog: Do you own anything here?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Absolutely not! Joss Whedon owns Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and J. Michael Straczynski owns Babylon 5. Oh, also, Gene Roddenberry ownes Tribbles. Thanks for reminding me.**_

_**Balrog: Tribbles? Tribbles!? No! NOOOO!!!!! You're going to bury me in ten tons of custard-colored rabbit tails! **_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: (Looks strangely at Balrog) I don't think I want to know. Please review, people!**_

**_CT_**

**_

* * *

_**

Umbra-letum ran her hands through her "hair", feeling absolutely drained. Xander knew about Techno-mages, the Centauri, the Narn, everything.

"What about Zachary?" Xander asked.

"Have you heard of the Great Machi—"

"The Great Machine on Epsilon 3? Of course I have! Is Zachar… oh my good… food… Zachary is Zathras, isn't he?"

"How… I'm not going to ask. Anything else?" she asked sardonically.

"Yes… who poisoned you? The Shadows?"

"Have you… no, you wouldn't know of the little cockroach…"

"Who, Morden? Anna Sheridan? That middleman… whatever his name was… Justin, that's it! Elizar? Razeel? Another Techno-mage gone wrong after finding out their roots?"

"How the Hell do you know about them?!" Umbra-letum raged, completely caught off guard.

"Easy, I watch Babylon 5 and read the B-5 novels."

"Great. What do you know about the Corps?"

"Psi Corps? Dear Gods, what a mess! I hate Bester and all he stands for!"

"Watch it, Xand! You're insulting my brother!"

"Your… My Gods… You're not Willow Rosenberg at all, you're a Dexter!"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I won't ask how you knew about that little detail, but still, yes, I am. And as such, even though I am a Techno-mage, should I wish, I could take up the mantle of the Leader of the Resistance, simply through force of genetics. Do you understand, Xander?"

"Yah. You're a really hunted person, and you're the sister to a real creep... wait, how did you get here, to this timeline, in the first place?"

"I don't know, and I wouldn't call Al a creep myself, just a bit misguided, but still, he's a Psi Cop. I can see how that would offend you."

"Just wondering, but where's your stabilizer, as well as Zathras' and Beryl's?"

"They were implanted beneath the skin by Dr. Franklin just before we left for the past."

"Makes sense. So, what will happen when you're better? I understand that your name means "Shadow Death", so are you a massive enemy to the Shadows, or is that just a name?"

"I can slaughter entire fleets of Shadow ships with my latent telepathy as well as my Wicca and Techno Magecraft abilities."

"I see. How strong are you, telepathically?"

"A P13, at the least."

"My God… Kevin Vacit was a P13, but he was the only one!" Xander yelped.

"Kevin Vacit, a Teep?! Are you crazy?! Kevin Vacit was the Normal who was placed as the Psi Corps director when Mom was out running around with Dad, trying to help the Resistance. He wasn't a Teep."

"He was a P13 telepath, and your grandfather. Your mother, Fiona Dexter nee Temple was the daughter of some French reporter… I think… and Kevin Vacit."

"No way. Monkey would have said something to Mom if Grandpa was the leader of Psi Corps."

"He was, Willow. Besides, you weren't raised by Fiona and Matthew Dexter and Stephen Walters, but by Laura Rosenberg. How did you know that you were a Dexter?"

"When the time-disruption field let go of me, I was found by Bester in a horrid part of Rome. Rome's really downgraded in some ways, and other ways, it's gotten better. I was taken to Geneva, where I was trained by the Corps. Then, when they found that I was a P12, for that's what they thought I was, I was placed with Bester to create a child. Of course, then they looked at our biology's, to see if any sort of disease would crop up in the brat, and found that we were siblings. Biological compatibility is just another word for rape, Xander." The one-eyed carpenter nodded, swallowing hard. Umbra-letum looked off beyond Xander, almost through him, as she relived her memories.

* * *

flashback

* * *

An explosion rocked the Mars area, and knocked Willow and Al to the ground, as well as the Rogue blips and other passersby in the area. Willow stood and stared at the dying man. He was a blip, a rouge, but more than that, he was Stephen Walters, the leader of the Resistance. If she could kill him, she and Al would be greatly celebrated back home, at the Corps.

Willow closed her eyes as the sharp, beautiful memories washed over her. Being held, being babbled to by this blip—the Black Fox—Stephen Walters.

"Al?" she said, struggling up. Her brother was completely unconscious, his facial mask's seal broken by the explosion. She pressed it back.

_:I know you,: _a familiar voice whispered in her mind. A block snapped in her mind. She yelled as the images of long-buried memories washed over her.

_:Walters, you... Goddess oh blessed Gaya! 'Teven!!: _

_:God... you remember me, Rhiannon?: _Flashes of moisture shone in the eyes of the blue-eyed man laying, severely injured, by the bulkhead.

_:'Teven, you're hurt.:_

"_Nothing to help it, Rhi. I'm glad I could see you—and Stee, if that—yes, that's Stee—once more.:_

_:'Teven, I can help you!: _Willow, or now Rhiannon, pleaded.

_:Don't try, Rhi,:_ Stephen p'gasped.

_:But I'm...:_ Before she could get the sentance out, Stephen Walters had died. Rhiannon knew the truth of what Walters had told her, and vowed that she would go by her birth name of Rhiannon Dexter as much as possible.

* * *

end flashback

* * *

"Willow? Umbra-letum?" Xander asked as the Techno-mage came out of her memories.

"My name is Rhiannon, when it is not Umbra-letum. Xander, I have to keep to my name, to my heratige."

"Rhiannon, then. Are you alright?"

"Don't worry, Xander. I'll be fine." The crippled techno-mage gently brushed her oldest friend's cheek, smiling at him. "I'm not the person you remember as your best friend, but I'll try to remember who I was. Do you want to know a bit about me?"

"Yes, I would," Xander replied, taking her hand.

"Well, I was taken as Beryl's apprentice, and I trained at his place of power, which was Minbar at the time. As a matter of fact, it still is, only a bit more removed from mine. My place of power is about thirty miles outside of Tuzenor, and Beryl's is on the other side of the planet."

"So that's why you speak Minbari so well."

"Yes. I am also deeply in love with the culture and the planet itself. If I could, I would remake this house to be crystalline in form, and to be able to catch and refract the sunlight as the temples do. Tuzenor is beautiful, Xander, you have no idea. The light reflecting off of the crystal spires and outcroppings makes it a beautiful landscape, and the wonder and glory of their technology makes you want to stay there forever..." Umbra-letum gazed out into the distance, seeing her Place of Power in her mind. The glyphs of the ancient Minbari were etched in the crystalline formations all around, and the cool air was bathing her face with a gentle breeze. The triad of waterfalls could be heard, or rather felt, as a low rumble in the distance. A Minbari flier whooshed overhead, and she heard the soft chiming of rain hitting the crystal roof.

"Wil-Rhian-Umbra-letum, are you there? Are you here?" Xander asked, breaking her from her trance.

"Of course I am." She smiled at him, and slowly stood. Xander began to panic, yelling as he put his arms about her. "I'll be fine," she snapped in response. He removed his hands, and looked carefully at her.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive, Xander. Don't fuss over me."

"Alright, I won't then."

"Umbra-letum," Zathras' gravely voice called. "A package for you."

"I see."

"Oh my good Macaroni and Cheese, that really is Zathras. I see it now..." Xander murmured in wonder. Umbra-letum began to laugh heartilly.

"Of course he is, Xander! Zachary, can you go and get it for me?"

"Zachary used to being beast of burden," Zathras muttered. Xander muttered something about being blind and possibly deaf as well. Zathras handed Umbra-letum a large box in brown paper and string.

"Well, now how's this for odd?" The young crippled Techno-Mage took off the paper, and found a metal box. Inside of that was a natural environment for the kitten that lay curled up on its side.

"What the Hell?" Xander cried. The kitten squeaked and jumped out of the box, meowing softly. It leapt onto Umbra-Letum's lap, before beginning to wash itself thoroughly.

"It's a Milan. They are the size of house cats when they are young, but when they are full grown, they are the size of a Siberian tiger, perhaps a bit larger. They have three times better senses of smell than a dog, and when they bond with someone, they never let that person out of their sight and have been known to kill for that person."

"So they're like guard dogs only super-powered?"

"Somewhat. They can communicate telepathically to telepaths, and so I am guessing that she can speak to me."

A tingle of thought and a gentle tendril of golds and blues trickled into her mind. The cat, now sleeping and lightly snoring, was apparently the source of the telepathic communication. A picture formed in Umbra-letum's mind, of Neroon picking the cat out of a group of other Milans, and putting it in a cryogenic box to keep it safe for the long trip, then took it to his ship. He pushed it into Sector 14, and gave the box instructions on where to go and when. The box showed up at her doorstep, then, and apparently the cat had managed to throw off the cryogenic stasis.

_:Do you have a name, little one?:_ Umbra-letum asked. The cat looked up and chirruped slightly before going back to sleep, a negative feeling trickling into Umbra-letum's mind. _:In that case, how about Bastet, Bast for short?: _A feeling of assent and a vision of Bastet as she would be fully-grown and beside a gigantic statue of the Egyptian Goddess as a domestic cat came to her. Obviously Bastet knew of the heritage of her name.

"What's its name?" Xander asked.

"Her name is Bastet, Bast for short."

"Interesting name."

"Bastet is my familiar now, Xand. Don't worry, she'll never do anything to harm me."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Positive, Xander. Don't worry so much! I feel much safer with her here than any other way."

"Good."

"Umbra—A Milan kit! Where'd you get it?!" Beryl cried.

"Neroon sent her to me. All's well, Beryl. Her name is Bastet, Bast for short."

"Neroon sent you a Milan kit? What'll you feed her?"

"I'm not sure at the moment…" She looked again in the box, and found that the corners had small, fine hairs in them. From one corner, a chirping was heard. "I suppose that _this_ is its natural food source." She reached in and picked up the thing. It began to purr, and Xander smiled.

"Zachary knows what it is," Zathras said.

"What is it?" Umbra-Letum asked her friend.

"Is dangerous, very dangerous. Kills whole worlds it does!"

"What the Hell?" Xander said. "It's cute! I won't allow you to feed it to your new cat!" Just then, Andrew stepped into the room.

"Oh my God!" he yelped. "It's a _Tribble_!! It'll eat us out of house and home! Get away before it makes you its slave! Go, run!" Then, Andrew followed his own advice, bolting out of the room and crashing into a gaggle of Slayers, yelling at them to flee for their lives. Xander and Umbra-Letum looked oddly at the doorway the techno-geek had just run out of, and shrugged.

"Reproduce, it does! Quickly!" Zathras said, taking it and flinging it in the cat's direction. The cat let it land, and began batting at it. Then, Xander and Umbra-Letum looked away to the Slayers, who were cooing and making much of the cat and the tribble. When the two turned back to the cat, the tribble had reproduced, resulting in 11 of the odd creatures.

"What, exactly, is that?" Giles asked, cleaning his glasses. He picked up a tribble, and began to smile, petting the strange creature.

"Neroon sent you a tribble to feed the Milan?" Beryl asked patiently.

"Yes. They're a good food source, due to their remarkable reproduction speed."

"And an ecological menace," Beryl grumbled. "Don't let them out of the house, they'll get all over the world in no time and strip it bare."

"I know, Beryl." The Slayers began to stroke the tribbles, cooing in response to the calming purr the creatures produced.

A crash from overhead alerted the group to Drusilla, who came tumbling down the stairs.

"Oh!" she cried as she saw the tribbles. "The stars have given us a sign!"

"Oh, no," Umbra-letum grumbled, picking up her new Milan and setting her down before the tribbles. Bastet looked at the massed fuzzballs, and batted at one. She then pounced, and began eating, not letting blood fall anywhere and resulting in a white and grey striped pelt lying on the floor. The Slayers and Drusilla cried out in horror, and Drusilla nearly attacked Bastet. The Milan responded with a snarl and a scratch, running a claw down the insane vampire's arm. With a furious hiss, Drusilla drew back to attack the Milan. Bastet bristled in response, puffing up to twice her size, her neck fluffing up due to a large leonine mane.

"Stay back," Umbra-letum barked, forming a fireball with her tech. She made it an illusion of a sun, and Drusilla screeched and fled. The Slayers looked rather bored, and irritated at Bastet for eating a tribble. Willow put her head in her hands and sat on Bastet's carry box as a wave of dizziness overcame her. She put her head in her hands, and her illusion wavered and fell. Nausea attacked her lower stomach, and she dry heaved. Bastet curled about her ankles, meowing in confusion, while Umbra-letum did not notice the other Slayers kept cooing at the tribbles. A strong arm came about her, and Beryl helped her to her room, Bastet following, a rather large tribble in her mouth. She dropped said rodent, and chirped at her new owner. "I'm alright," Umbra-Letum sighed. She glared at the other Slayers, who were still cooing over the tribbles. When Bastet grew, she was sure the cat would need more food. Bastet jumped onto her bed, and put the tribble down before meowing and rubbing her head against Umbra-Letum's arm. The Techno-Mage quickly drew the cat into a hug, finally letting homesickness and despair wash over her.

* * *

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Sorry about the really very slow update! My muse ran off without me for a while!**_

_**Balrog: Oh, Fire Gods! It's a Tribble! Run away! Hide! (Starts shaking and flees to a closet)**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Balrog? Balrog? Well, that's new. He's never fled from fuzzballs before. **_

_**Balrog: They're evil! **_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I see. **__**Erm… Yah. Anyways, people, please review.**_

_**CT**_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Celebwen Telcontar: This is the third installment in **_**Death of Shadows, Brightness of Light. **_**Hopefully you will all like it!**_

_**Balrog: Like it? Why? How could I like it?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: I wasn't talking to you, you overgrown… overgrown volcanic vent!**_

_**Balrog: Overgrown Volcanic Vent? That's a new one. Any more interesting insults up your sleeves?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Oh, jump in a glacier!**_

_**Balrog: (Blinks, confused) Oh, well.**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: Please review, people!**__**

* * *

**_

Probe/Dream_**

* * *

**_

__

The Temple amphitheater was filled to capacity. Umbra-Letum recognized the grey stone and clerestory windows as belonging to the ancient Temple of Varenni high in a mountain range on Minbar. She had no idea why her probes had dragged her here, to see this old relic. But it wasn't occupied only by the Temple keepers, but by quite a few people. Delenn and Lennier were there, talking to Neroon and Shakiri. Then, Delenn and Shakiri stepped into the blazing beam of luminescence called the Starfire Wheel. Neroon and Lennier watched on, horror fixating the young aide's face, while the stoic Warrior was hard to read. Shakiri dove out, his garments smoking, and Neroon delivered a stinging verbal slap to his Caste Leader. Lennier looked worriedly at the Starfire Wheel, and Umbra-Letum gasped as Delenn fell to the ground, looking up into the malevolent eye of light. Neroon suddenly roared, diving into the Wheel himself, picking Delenn up and handing her to Lennier. He screamed to the filled temple to listen to Delenn, and stated the true calling of his heart to be Religious. Then, the burning energy engulfed him, leaving the area completely bare even of his ashes.

* * *

End Probe/Dream

* * *

Umbra-Letum sat up in a flurry of comforters and blankets. Bastet yowled, diving off of the bed, and then jumped back on again with a tribble in her mouth. The young cub dropped the small rodent at Umbra-Letum's side and curled up to her human.

"Neroon," Willow whispered. She knew why Neroon had done that, it was to end the Minbari Civil War.

"Umbra-Letum?" Beryl asked, coming into the bedroom. "What is it?" The elderly Narn sat on the edge of her bed, looking into her eyes.

"Neroon just ended the Minbari Civil War. The Religious Caste is the Leader, I suppose, since Neroon flung himself into the Starfire Wheel and declared himself Religious."

"What in the Galaxy would prompt him to do that?!" Beryl yelped.

"Delenn was in the Wheel, challenging Shakiri to the Leadership. Shakiri flung himself out of the Wheel, and Delenn stayed in to make a point. Neroon took her place."

"And she agreed?!" Beryl replied.

"No, she was unconscious at the time."

"I didn't think she'd allow anyone to die in her place. So now Neroon is a martyr and the Civil War is over. Thank Valen that the war ended peacefully. Neroon died for a reason, he died so his people could live in peace."

"I understand, Beryl. I'm not going to try to resurrect Neroon," Umbra-Letum muttered. Beryl gave her a paternal smile.

"I know; I just know how impulsive you are sometimes, Umbra-Letum. Especially when you're grieving." The Human Techno-Mage blushed. Beryl understood every part of her life, even before she was flung into her home time from the past. The elderly Narn knew everything, from Amy the Rat to her addiction to magyk to Buffy's death and subsequent resurrection to her reaction when Tara had been killed. Both were jolted from the conversation by a loud crash and screams augmented by the fire alarm from downstairs. Umbra-Letum tried to stand up, only to tumble to the floor on top of a pile of recently-born tribbles, which shrieked under her weight. Beryl helped her up, roaring to see if everyone was alright, and carried his apprentice down the stairs, Bastet leading the way with a yowl.

The living room was filled with the stench of burned flesh, strange, sticky black goo on the floor and slowly soaking into the carpet. Multiple tribbles were on the floor, making bubbles as they tried to breathe through the mess. They tried to move about, only smearing the black substance in random lines if they moved at all. Dawn, Zathras and Andrew were covered in the gunk, trying to get out of it, and a person on the couch was not moving and covered in the muck. It seemed to have the consistency and adhesiveness of heavy crude oil, and when Bastet sniffed it, she sneezed and backed away, making faces at the muck.

"Zathras does not like this!" The fuzzy alien spat and wiped at his eyes, yelping as the gunk got into them.

"What the Hell is that?" Buffy asked, wrinkling her nose at the smell.

"It's… I think it might be tar," Giles said, polishing his glasses.

"Tar doesn't usually smell like something burning, does it? And it doesn't usually set off the fire alarms." Dawn tried to step out of the expanding puddle of black goo, and the suction caused her to trip and fall face first in the mess.

"Ick!" she complained, spitting out a gob of the mess. "It tastes like tar!"

"Dawn!" Buffy protested. "How do you know what tar tastes like?"

"Er… Never mind?" Dawn tried. Buffy glared at her. "Okay, okay! I tripped in the La Brea tar pits when we were last in LA."

"How is that possible?" Andrew asked, trying unsuccessfully to work his own way out of the muck. "I look like the Creature from the Black Lagoon!"

"Don't ask," Dawn replied, crawling her way out of the sticky gunk. "Ugh! I am so getting some new clothes!" She staggered to her feet, finding that the mess was adhesive enough to make her movements difficult and energy-consuming.

"What… happened?" Umbra-Letum asked, out of breath. Beryl was supporting her, and she was glaring around the room.

"I don't know. This just… happened. A bright greenish light came in the room, and the tar exploded all over with… whoever that is on the couch." By now, someone had disconnected the fire alarm, which gave the group some much needed peace and quiet.

"Who is that?" Beryl asked.

"Doesn't matter," Umbra-Letum said. She straightened up, forming a flying platform with a physical chair attached to it.

"Umbra-Letum," Beryl said cautiously, "Don't strain yourself."

"I'm not… likely to," she replied, out of breath again.

"I'll support your platform."

"Thanks… Beryl," she gasped. Umbra-Letum was propelled across the tar to the humanoid figure laying on the couch. "Beryl! A hand… with Organelles… please," she said.

"Certainly." The old Narn floated himself over to the comatose person, putting his own organelles into the humanoid's body. Umbra-Letum helped, and used her crystal to scatter the Healing nanobots everywhere in the person's body.

"Look!" Andrew cried. A fresh wave of tar squelched out of the body and onto the floor with a disgusting sound like an object being pulled out of a viscous pool of thick glutinous mud. A few Slayers squealed with revulsion, skittering back like jittery foals. Slowly, the black goo stopped seeping from the prone body, and it cleared up. A bone-crest resolved on the back of the head, revealing the body to be a Minbari. The three spikes on the back of the crest identified him as a male and of the Warrior Caste. The alien rolled over and vomited up more tar, hacking it from his lungs, and when he opened his eyes, they were covered with the nasty substance. Umbra-Letum used her Wicca Magyk to force the tar from his body, removing every last atom of it.

"Who the Hell…?" Faith stammered, seeing the alien.

"More like what," another Slayer said.

"A Minbari," Xander put in. "They're aliens. He's male, and probably of the Warrior Caste from his bone crest." Finally, Umbra-Letum and Beryl managed to clear the Warrior's body of the viscous tar. Umbra-Letum gasped.

"Neroon!"

_**

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**_

Celebwen Telcontar: Well, what do you think?

_**Balrog: You're completely insane. First pulling Willow through this trans-temporal story, now you drag Neroon! What's next, a Smilodon?**_

_**Celebwen Telcontar: No… (Looks at Balrog strangely) Anyways, please review people!**_

_**CT**_


End file.
